The Death of Robin Hood
by Trixter82
Summary: My take on the ending of season 3. Spoilers for season 2 all the way up to the sad sad ending. Contains character death. Canon shippings.


**Did you hate the season 2 finale as much as I did? This is my take on the ending of season 3. It is sad, contains character death, but isn't all angst. It soothed me a bit to write it, brought some closure to this grief. :sob:**

**Enjoy.**

**Hugs,  
Trix**

* * *

The Death of Robin Hood

Sherwood Forest stood lush and green with the fragile beauty of spring on the day that Robin Hood died. No swords clenched, but two long silver-coloured blades caught the sunlight as they followed their owners' circling movements. At the end of the first blade there was a leather covered fist, a black hand attached to the black body of a dark man. He was panting, sweaty with the final exhausted efforts of a prolonged fight, his hair plastered to his forehead. His opponent was smaller, lighter. He moved almost mockingly, pranced around with his head cocked and the red face forked by a smile that went from side to side like the jaw of a predator.

"You can't win this," Guy of Gisbourne scoffed at his opponent. "The precious revenge is out of you hand Hood."

"The king is back," Robin grinned with a hoarse laugher. "The sheriff is crushed, the black knights defeated. You have lost."

"But that is not enough is it?"

The dark man smirked, backed off when Robin's blade was swung in his direction, half-heartedly as if it was merely a matter of form, and caught it with his own. The swords clenched three times, then moved away again and they continued the circling. Robin's eyes were wide open, his grin stretched a little longer.

"She is still dead," Guy continued. He was smiling too, mocking his opponent, challenging him. "Buried in the sands of your Holy Land. Was he worth it, I wonder? Your precious King Richard? The heart of a lion and the soul of a vulture."

There was a swift frown in Robin's face, the smile faltered for a moment and Guy snorted.

"You failed to protect her," he scoffed, happy to see that his words got to Robin. "Don't you see? I have already won over you. I took away everything you loved. You can't win this."

"You took away everything_ you_ loved too."

"It was worth it to see your heart broken," Guy sneered edgily.

Robin's eyes went from the cold smirk in Guy's face to the sword in his hand. They seemed to have been fighting like this for an eternity, long after the other battles were over and he had lost his men somewhere on the way. The cheers from the victory had reached his ears and went through him with a shrug. This was it. The final battle. The last stand. They had fought ferociously at first, lashing out at each other with every drop of hate and grief in their bodies. The loss of Marian echoed through every clench. Then they were tired, exhausted by the struggle and this fight that never seemed to end. They scoffed and mocked at each other, walked in circles with the sun catching their blades. Now this had to end. Robin stared at Guy, the man who stole his life, took his future away from him.

Every day since _her_ death Robin had felt hollow and weary, so sick and tired of life and these never-ending wars. Once upon a time he was a boy with expectations, a young nobleman with ideals and dreams and hopes for the future. Then he had taken those ideals and went into war, followed some vain dream of glory and walked right into hell. He thought he would die between those sand dunes, under that hot blazing sun. First it took his innocence, tainted his dreams and hopes, planted a seed of bitterness that grew with every life he took. Then it somehow drained his soul, bit by bit he felt himself slip away. And at last, when he thought the nightmare was over, when he had started to heal and grow hope anew, it took his love away and with that his life. He had buried himself with Marian. Between the sand dunes he died with her. Every breath he took since that day was filled with vengeance. He fought because she asked him to and to revenge her death, lived for her even though she was gone.

_She is gone. It is over. _In front of him stood his nemesis for the last time, all dressed in black. The battles were over. They had won. There was a sudden lightness as it finally caught up with him, relief went through his body and lifted it, gave him strength beyond his worn out limbs. The smile grew again, he could feel it split his face in two, and with a final leap he threw himself at Guy of Gisbourne. Both swords cut through flesh, Robin felt the blade sink right through him in the same moment that his own blade was thrust into Guy. There was an expression of surprise in Guy's face, he let go of his sword and Robin tugged his own sword out of him, saw the crimson blood on the blade. Finally the victory cheer reached him as well, cut through him like the sword that went through his body.

"I have lived to see you die," he hissed as Guy fell down. "We both die today but I die a winner, and when I come to heaven _she_ will be waiting for me."

Robin stood for a while by the force of adrenaline alone, then staggered and fell backwards into the grass. There were still two pair of breaths in the glen, he heard the struggling breathing from Guy get increasingly laboured and then stop completely. Robin laughed a little to himself. The sky was blue and he lay on his back in the grass, felt his life slowly escape him. This forest was his second love, the beautiful Lady Sherwood; it suited him to die here with the sound of the trees and the twittering from courting birds. A white cloud moved slowly over the sky as the dying Robin Hood waited for his lads to get here.

"Master! Robin!"

Much came first, ran and fell down in the grass beside his fallen friend.

"You took your time," Robin smiled through the pain.

"Oh God—Ah, lay still, don't move, Djaq will get here. We will—Master what shall I do?"

"Much, do not call me master," Robin sighed. "Leave it!" He reached out his hand as Much started to remove his scarf to press it to the wound.

"But—"

"It is time Much. Leave it."

Much hesitated, watched the weapon still sticking out of Robin's body in an odd echo of a different death, I different place. It seemed the sword had been there all along, mentally draining his life from him for months. This was just a formality. Much gave out a dejected sigh and suppressed a scream of agony. _Don't leave me like this!_

"You can't die now," Much sobbed. "We have won! The king is back, you will have your Locksley, I will be at Bonchurch—"

"No Much. You will not be at Bonchurch."

"What?"

"You will be at Locksley," Robin smiled. "I have made preparations, made sure you will be taken care of. All of you."

"I will be at Locksley? Your Locksley?"

"No Much. Our Locksley. Your Locksley now. Much of Locksley. I was going to leave for a pilgrimage when all this was over, now it seems I won't have to."

"Back to the Holy Land?"

"Back to her." Robin smiled and turned his head to the left of Much. The rest of the gang stood there, forming a sordid half circle around him. It was Little John and Allan from the old days and a group of new allies, idealistic men that he respected yet hardly knew. Robin after Marian wasn't much of a man, he was a cause, a symbol, a purpose. To these new people he was not a dying friend but a hero who met his end._ Finally_.

"We fought well," he said. "My friends, my men, we beat the odds and won. But I am tired now. Let me rest, lads." _At last_, he added to himself, _to find peace at last_. A smile grazed his lips, serene in a way that he hadn't been since he lost his love under that blazing sun. He gazed into the sky again, and there she was, just like he remembered her. The big blue eyes, the silky dark curls, the warm smile. He reached his hand out to her and she became less of a ghost, same closer as the world disappeared around him.

"She is here now," he mumbled. "My love, I'm coming home--"

A breeze moved through the glen and the ancient trees of Sherwood Forest danced in a last farewell to its most prominent sovereign. His eyes became still, the smile frozen on his lips. Some feet away lay the dead body of his archenemy, still surprised in death that he met his demise like this. The body of Robin Hood was nothing but a shell as Much shut the staring eyes with shaking hands and moved the arms to lie crossed over the still heart.

"Now what?" Allan-a-Dale broke the silence. "What do we do now?"

"Now," Much's voice trembled. "Now, now we bring him home."

----

The sand was hot under Much feet, the air dry and stifling. He felt tired, yet it was somehow comforting to be back here without a sword raised, without a battle to fight. There were two heaps in the sand, two wooden crosses where Lady Marian Fitzwalter and Carter—Much gave the other grave a look—sir Carter something something, lay in their final rest. This land was full of Crusader's graves, those you didn't take home was buried like this and forgotten. He gestured to a young man who went behind him, leading a grey donkey.

"Arthur, get the box," he ordered.

"Yes master," the boy mumbled. He didn't have the best of moods, and the heat seemed to bother him quite a bit, but Much had developed a certain fondness for the boy.

"He is your manservant?"

Much turned to the voice with a smile. Her accent seemed more pronounced now that she didn't speak English on a daily basis, and her hair was longer, but she was still the same Djaq.

"Djaq," Much greeted her with a smile. "And Will." The young man was not so much a young man any longer, he had grown a beard and the skin was tanned. "It is good to see you. This is Arthur, my most loyal servant."

The boy grunted in response and hauled down a box from the donkey.

"The heat doesn't become him I'm afraid," Much excused him. Arthur carried the box to the group of people and put it down in front of them. It was rather small, considering the content and Will gave it a puzzled look. "In the Holy Land," Much explained. "During the wars, you sometimes boiled the corpses to get the bones home to England and bury them. I do not know if it has ever been done the other way around and it took quite some persuading—and money— before I found a priest to go along with it."

"Talking about money," Djaq said while Will remained staring at the box with a rather disgusted look on his face. "Where is Allan? And Little John? They did not come?"

"Well, John is getting older," Much responded. "He wished to stay with his son. I lost Allan on the way, I'm afraid."

"Lost him?"

"Yes—In Venice as a matter of fact," Much hesitated a while. "To a rather busty Jewish girl as it happens. I think they decided to go into banking. Anyway, they send their regards."

"Well," Djaq laughed. "That seems like an honest profession that is shady enough for him. And the girl, she is good for him?"

"She is—let's just say I wouldn't go any near a child of theirs. You'd end up with your pockets emptied and bite marks, if you are lucky."

Will and Djaq smiled fondly at the memory of their old friends, then turned to the box with Robin's remains again and watched it in silence. It seemed so absurd somehow, that all their struggles would come to this, yet soothing to know that it was over now.

"This is it then," Will sighed. "The end of Robin Hood. A box in the desert."

"No," Much said and shook his head. "I just brought him back to where he left his heart. He belongs with her." There was the sound of iron cutting into sand as Arthur started to dig a hole next to Marian's grave, impatient to get this done. He had no need to say farewell to these bones they buried, Robin was nothing but a myth to him and the sun was hot in this damned Holy Land. Much smiled sadly at the sand that surrounded them. He would never return here after this, his story was done. He would return to Locksley, his home, get married and live the rest of his life in peace. "People already write songs about us back home," he smiled as a tear ran down his face. "What we did will be remembered for centuries, inspire people to do good. And that is why—" his voice broke and he swallowed hard, blinking away another tear. "—and that is why Robin Hood can never die."

_Fin_


End file.
